Of the Bells
by onthispath
Summary: Rachel/Quinn. Faberry. This is going to be a series of snapshots with roots to Along These Lines. These glimpses into the lives of ATL Rachel & Quinn and the rest of their family are set during the yuletide season. There will only be a few and they will likely not be chronological, and as such, may leave much of what transpired prior to the depicted scene, to the imagination.
1. Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Summary: This is series of snapshots with roots to _Along These Lines_. These glimpses into the lives of _ATL_ Rachel and Quinn and the rest of their family are set during the yuletide season. There will only be a few and they are likely not going to be chronological, and as such, may leave much of what transpired prior to the depicted scene, to the imagination.

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**One: Have yourself a merry little Christmas**

-Katie, 20-

It's the night before Christmas and the house is in absolute chaos. Every nook, every cranny, every corner, room and bath, is filled with family from all ages, laughing, crying, yelling and of course, singing, and every available surface is littered with presents, wrapping paper, food, and photographs of beaming faces.

You are out on the front porch, shivering from the cold, your fingers slightly numb as you strive to re-tie the scarf you had haphazardly thrown on just minutes before in your haste to get outside and away from everyone. Your phone beeps, the screen lighting up and your sister's smiling face, identical to yours, beams up at you.

"God, it's crazy out here." Her voice comes through a second later.

"Get off the phone." You snap at her.

"It's hands-free." She throws back.

"Tatia, I swear, there's a probably a shitload of drunk assholes on the road trying to get home in time for midnight like you are. So get the fuck off the phone and get your ass here. Momma's been trying to corner me all night."

There's a hum on the other end followed by a mumbled curse as the sound of horns blaring comes through and then she's loudly cursing the other drivers on the road.

Your heart stops for a second before satisfied that she is unharmed you tell her again - "Get off the phone." And hang up.

The front door opens behind you and you jump slightly and can't help your sigh of relief as you realize who it is. "Hi, baby girl." Your mommy rasps out, pulling her coat tightly around her, haphazardly tying its cloth belt around her waist before opening her arms.

You sigh again before walking into them and you can't help but smile at how tightly she holds you.

"Heard you've been avoiding Momma all night."

You let out a soft whine and bury your face in her chest. She laughs, kissing the top of your head before pulling away to look at you. Your face heats up at her intense gaze, and desperate to get away from it you ramble. "Antha's got news. Wyatt too."

Your mommy narrows her eyes at you briefly before her mouth curves into a smile. "Uh huh," she drawls. "Wyatt and Liam got engaged, your momma's already cried her eyes out and has bookmarked no less than a dozen websites and already has a short list of event planners. Antha is going to reprise momma's role on Le Fey at the West End, beginning next summer. Your brother and sister always have news, honey."

You pout. "They're supposed to wait til everyone gets here before they announce it."

Your mommy chuckles as her eyes continue to bore into you. "When have your brother and sister ever been able to wait? Antha called last week and Wyatt has been here all weekend making plans with Momma." You continue pouting and she pulls you towards the porch swing and sits you both down.

"What about _your_ news?" She prompts.

"I'm not sure there's news yet, mommy." You respond. "I haven't decided yet."

"You're driving Momma nuts." She says, chuckling once again. "Which means she's driving _me_ nuts."

"Momma's got no patience." You tell her smiling widely.

"I do too have patience," the object of your discussion huffs out, shivering at the cold.

"Do you now?" Your mommy asks with a roll of her eyes. "Is that well of patience the reason you've come out here without a jacket?" She's taking off her own to presumably give to your momma but you beat her to it, fixing your momma with a stern glare before putting your coat over her shoulders and then wrapping your scarf tightly around her neck.

"You'll be raising hell if you catch a cold, Momma." Your momma's response is a wide smile and pulling you into her arms in a tight embrace. She smells of sugar cookies, cinnamon spice, and vanilla, and you give in to the urge to sink into her. You hear the front door open and close, but your momma refuses to let you go. You note a very pregnant Lizzy wrap a blanket around you as she takes the seat you've vacated on the swing next to your mommy.

"Why is the hall closet empty?" Lizzy asks your mommy confusedly. "I couldn't find any of Momma's coats anywhere."

"Fr. John came by earlier for emergency donations, there was a fire in one of the communities yesterday and they haven't been able to organize a drive yet so Momma sent all the coats down to the church." Your mommy replies and you roll your eyes good-naturedly. Sounds exactly like your momma to forget to leave one for herself. "The only reason this survived," your mommy continues amusedly gesturing at her coat, "is because I was out at the grocer's wearing it."

"Love, we can always go shopping after the holidays." Your momma interjects. "They needed them _now_."

Your mommy winks at you as you pull away from your momma. So that's why Tatiana had snuck out with that mischievous look on her face so close to midnight.

You watch as Lizzy absentmindedly rubs at her belly as her eyes search yours. You shake your head in what you hope is discrete enough for your momma not to notice, but her whine beside you shows you she has.

The door opening once again momentarily saves you from your momma's scrutiny and Wyatt's head pokes out before disappearing inside again. "Told you they'd be out front." He says before the door is jerked open and Samantha walks out, her face in a confused frown as she drags her much taller younger brother by his shirt collar.

Wyatt's face is a mask of horror as he pries Antha's fingers off him. "An! It took forever to iron this!"

You bite back a laugh and try your damned hardest to school your features as Lizzy and your mommy simultaneously call for Antha to let go of Wyatt.

"My baby boy," Momma coos beside you, running her fingers on his slightly wrinkled collar.

Wyatt frowns petulantly at Antha, pouting slightly as he wraps an arm around your momma. He turns to you questioningly and you roll your eyes and shake your head once again.

"Are we waiting for Tatia before you tell me?" your momma asks.

Your face heats up and your mommy lets out a dry chuckle. "Rachel," she warns.

"Quinn," your momma responds and pouts at her and your mommy positively melts.

Antha hums the beginnings of _Oh Holy Night _as she threads her fingers with Lizzy's and wraps it around the swell of her belly. Lizzy's eyes mist with tears but she quickly joins in. Your mommy holds out a hand for you and you take it as she leads you to sit on her lap, which you do even though you're at least a decade too old for it.

Your momma joins in and your heart feels so full spontaneous combustion wouldn't surprise you. Your eyes tear and you don't even have Lizzy's excuse of rampaging hormones. You hide your face in your mommy's neck and she runs her fingers through your hair to soothe you as Lizzy's, Antha's and your momma's voices blend in to sing one of your favorite Christmas carols.

It's been sixteen years since you've found your home with your parents and your sisters, and not too long after, your brother. The holidays always get to you, especially the yuletide season.

"You started without me," Tatiana calls out from the car as she rushes to put it into park. Your mommy's grip on you tightens and you see your momma's face twist into a frown as Tatiana scampers to get her seatbelt off before even turning the engine off.

"Hey," Wyatt calls sternly, and he's rarely ever so that Tatiana stops immediately, still sitting in the car her eyes wide. "Safety first. You're not too old to be grounded."

You see her pout and pray Wyatt doesn't fall for it. Tatiana behind the wheel will be the death of you, you're sure of it.

"It's safe, Wy." She reasons and you can't help but roll your eyes. Your sister does not know what the word _safe_ means.

"It's not." He's still stern, still strong.

She sighs. "Sorry." She finally calls out, hands up in surrender and Wyatt finally folds, pulling her into his arms.

"You've been singing carols without me," she says again.

"Just one," he responds before pulling her up on the porch.

You watch your momma pinch her nose the second she's close enough, her brow rising in silent reprimand. You don't hear what Tatiana tells your momma but whatever it is, it seems to mollify her. You look towards your mommy but she shakes her head. "Not tonight," she whispers, rubbing the frown off your forehead reassuringly with her thumb.

"Not tonight." Lizzy echoes much louder than your mommy's but her eyes flash as she glares at Tatiana and you see Tatiana flinch and hide her face in your momma's shoulder. Samantha smirks beside you but says nothing, and you finally relax. Tatiana may have your mommy, your momma and your brother wrapped around her finger but there's no escaping your older sisters, especially not pregnant hormonal Lizzy in Mama Bear mode.

You can't help the smirk your lips form and Tatiana narrows her eyes at you in a glare. "Has Katie told you her news?" She bites out.

You roll your eyes at her.

"Hush you." Your momma flicks her ear and she at least looks chagrined.

"Tell Mommy and Momma, Katie." Samantha says lightly, "Before Momma has a coronary."

Your mommy, chuckles her body shaking behind you. You stand but keep one of her hands in yours as you face your family.

"Soooo" you start, "I like boys." You say with a shrug of your shoulders.

They're silent. Your momma frowns, perplexed, and the look on your mommy's face is indecipherable before it breaks in bemusement. You don't hazard a look at your siblings because you know you'll break.

"Quinn?" Your momma says, rubbing at her temple lightly before running a hand through her hair.

Your mommy opens her mouth to speak but Samantha tsks's beside her. And your momma continues, still frowning, still perplexed. "But med school, honey? How did your interviews go?"

It's Samantha again that keeps anyone else from answering. "Momma, coming out is no trifling matter, everyone deserves their own coming out story. Don't deny Katie hers."

Your mommy sighs beside you and pulls at Samantha's ear and you can't help it, your face breaks into a smile. You catch sight of Wyatt's face and his cheeks are puffed out, his face steadily turning redder by the second. You look at Tatiana and she doesn't even try to hide her smile, she's smirking now, her eyes alight with a familiar mischievous glow. "Is there any boy in particular you like, Katie-Kat?" she purrs.

You don't respond and turn your eyes towards Lizzy who looks positively torn. She's quiet for a beat before she shuffles to get up on her feet, holds both her hands out towards you to take yours as she fights to keep a serious expression on her face. "Thank you for being brave enough to tell us about this, Katarina," she says solemnly, and her face twitches almost uncontrollably as she fights to keep herself from bursting into laughter.

"Quuuiiiinn," Your momma whines loudly, stomping her foot, a mildly thunderous expression on her face.

"Girls, stop having a go at your mother." Your mommy finally says, standing and pulling your momma into her arms. "And you," she adds, looking at your momma, "Stop making it so easy for them," and places a kiss at the base of her neck before turning the both of them to face you.

They're a unit, they always are. It's precisely what makes "having a go" at them so much fun. You feel nervous again but force yourself to say it. "I got into three of my top five."

Your mommy's smile is radiant but you only have half a moment to see it as you are crushed in your momma's embrace in the next instant. You feel her tears against you and it triggers your own. This is precisely why you have been waiting to tell your parents. Your mommy and your momma are always so loving, so proud. There's not a single painting or drawing that you, your sisters or your brother have created that isn't filed after being displayed all throughout the house for a prolonged length of time—no play, recital or performance that isn't recorded and repeatedly watched throughout the years—no educational, intellectual, literary, artistic or athletic achievement that isn't valued and celebrated.

Bawling your eyes out because you're brimming with happiness and gratitude at a huge family gathering with your aunts, uncles and cousins, a smattering of their significant others, in-laws and future in-laws, and grandparents, mere meters away is something you would have absolutely preferred not to do. Your momma, however, has positively zero patience and if you're honest with yourself, Tatiana arriving and completing your own little family on the front porch of your childhood home, has rendered you incapable of keeping it from them for a second longer. Secrets and surprises in your family are rarely ever a thing. You swear, your momma, Antha, Wyatt and Tatia have little to no impulse control when it comes to good news, but you had wanted to wait until you finished with your last interview before letting them know so you had sworn your brother and sisters to secrecy the previous Tuesday over your weekly video group chats.

"Momma," you whisper against her. "Don't cry. You're making _me_ cry."

She pulls away from you, wiping at her eyes. "So proud," she tells you. "Always so proud of you. Of all of you," She pulls Lizzy into her side, placing an arm around her waist.

Your mommy pulls you into her own arms and kisses your cheek. "There's no wrong choice, baby girl." She whispers. "But you'll make the best one for you and Momma and I will always be here whichever one you choose, whichever field you specialize in. We'll always be just one phone call, one message away, and you know Momma'll move mountains to get to you at a moment's notice."

"Mountains, oceans, the heavens." Your momma affirms, gesticulating, and your eyes tear again.

"I don't wanna be so far away," you confess, finally. "I don't want Antha to be so far away." You add softly.

You're pulled from your mommy's arms and into Samantha's as Tatiana teases "such a baby," from behind you.

"Who's still a junior in college?" You shoot without turning to look at her.

"So, little Ms. Nerd? You're still the youngest."

"Who's home practically every weekend, _princess_?" Wyatt retorts for you. "Who comes home to do laundry and to sleep in her old _princess_ bed?"

"Wyyy" Tatiana half growls, half whines.

"You're _all_ my babies." Your momma says firmly. "Whether you're in college or theater or medicine or social work or literature— whether you're four, twenty or thirty-two or fifty, you'll all always be my babies.

"I'll come home for everything." Antha promises, squeezing you tightly. "Spend the summer with me? You know I've had Momma's parts memorized since since I was eight. Rehearsals are going to be a total breeze. And I'm not leaving 'til baby Antha is born."

"I'm not naming your niece after you!" Lizzy intones as Wyatt calls out a "Hey!" and Tatiana growls out a "And what about me?!" with a stomp of her foot.

"Mommy and Momma can't come and tuck you into a little princess bed across the Atlantic, Tatia." You say, smirking and your satisfaction mounts as she stomps her foot again and glowers.

"You're too easy," Lizzy tells Tatiana with a pinch and pull at her ears.

"Hey," a voice calls from the front door and you all turn to look. It's your Tia Tana. "I could be on a beach in Acapulco for the holidays in a bikini instead of _still_ _freezing_ under 2 layers of tights and sweaters out here because Rachel and Kurt got the little ones to gang up on me and coerce me into agreeing that we had to all be together for Christmas. Now you're all hiding out here in the dark. Get your asses back inside, and Quinn, where's the Bordeaux you promised me?"

"Carols time!" You hear Uncle Blaine's voice boom from inside the house.

Tatiana, Samantha and your momma jump in place; Antha continues to bounces ecstatically next to you and Tatia claps in glee.

"Carols time!" your momma echoes excitedly as the little kids start to filter out onto the porch using you and your siblings as shields in what seems to be a game of tag.

"Everybody back in or Santa's gonna cross you all off the nice list." Aunt Britt calls from her place between the tree and the fireplace.

There are groans all around and you're pulled towards the door by your youngest cousin who excitedly signs question after question about Santa. You pull her up into your arms and carry her as you watch her fingers fly.

Everyone shuffles back into the house, loudly conversing as you all gather around the warmth of the living room. You take a seat on the floor next to your Aunt Britt giving her a quick kiss on the cheek as she patiently signs back her answers to each and every one of little Hailey's questions.

As everyone starts to settle down and your Uncle Blaine sits on the piano beside your Uncle Kurt, you let your eyes scan the room, the warm glow washing over the happy faces of your family: Lizzy has settled into the couch, snuggled into her husband's side—Your mommy and your momma sitting with Tatia cuddled between them—Wyatt and his fiance, Liam, too have an arm each around Antha—the younger cousins scattered around the room on the floor and in couches bouncing in place in various states of excited energy— Tia Tana, Aunt Cedes and Auntie Car uncorking a bottle of what you assume is the aforementioned Bordeaux your mommy promised off in the kitchen.

As Uncle Blaine starts to play the first notes of your absolute most favorite of all Christmas carols, you close your eyes, wishing, hoping, praying, that the fates indeed do allow that all your years be spent together with each and every single one of them, knowing with happy certainty that although your Christmases will never be little, they will undeniably and irrevocably be merry for as long as it is spent with them.

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A/N: Got a bit carried away on the length of this first one because I hadn't fleshed everything out yet. The plan was to create a series of vignettes but it's ended up thrice as long as it's supposed to be though at least it still accomplishes the goal of a glimpse of a future scene set around the holidays. Current plan is to write eight scenes scattered over the years, and to try to get them up asap, but the season's always a busy time and I might possibly be deluded in how soon I can finish these and get them up. All these ideas are wicked new and absolutely mutable, so very open to critique and of course constructive criticism.


	2. God rest ye Merry Gentlmen

A/N: I'm so sorry it's come out confusing because only now are at least 3 new characters being introduced. I've had these thoughts running around in my head for a while and only ever really flesh them out when I write them and I don't always realize not everything I think comes across on paper. I hope as the chapters go on,you get to know the new characters, that glimpses into their background and personalities do come through, and it's able to bring the snapshots together. Thanks for the review, Jehfret!

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**Two: God rest ye merry gentlemen**

-Wyatt, 13-

Light filters through the full-length glass doors leading out onto the private balcony of the bedroom, the wind rustling the sheer white curtains and the cold makes you shiver. Your mommy and your momma usually keep the doors closed, especially in the wintertime, but you have a habit of opening them whenever you sneak into their room to snuggle with them in sleep.

Your best sleep is always in this bed with them, not that you'd ever admit it to anyone else, though you're quite certain your whole family undoubtedly knows this is the case as you're often found in your parents' bed when nightmares disturb your slumber. Had you done this with your birth parents, you'd have been black and blue all over, eyes swollen and shut, perhaps never to even open again.

"Wy," your momma croaks out sleepily, eyes still closed in sleep "it's freezing."

"It's snowing, Momma." You tell her. Momma always grumbles about the cold but only ever snuggles further into you. Mommy gets up with a yawn, as she always does, after a kiss to your temple, to grab an extra blanket from the hall closet to drape over Momma. Then, she crawls back into bed on your side, ruffles your hair before wrapping her arms around you, closing her eyes again in sleep.

You're quiet, merely watching the wind blow in flurries of snow through the open doors. You're starting to feel restless, but you know Mommy and Momma are tired and soon enough Tatia and Katie will come barreling in requesting for presents to be opened, so you stay quiet. Your momma's and mommy's hands are threaded over your stomach, each clutching you tight but still finding their ways to each other even in sleep. You revel in the warmth they radiate and the in the beauty of the swirling flakes before you.

A few minutes later, the bedroom door opens and Lizzy's head of messy blonde waves pokes in before the door opens further to reveal a yawning Antha, each clutching steaming mugs of what your nose tells you is cocoa. Lizzy smiles brightly at you as Antha rubs at her eyes blearily, gesturing for you to join them on the couch in front of the slightly opened glass doors. You get off the bed carefully so as not to wake your mommy and your momma again and the three of you tiptoe your way to the couch. Lizzy hands you a mug with marshmallows floating on top and you breathe in the rich sweet scent, your eyes closed, savoring the aroma and warmth it brings to your quickly chilling fingers.

When you open your eyes, Lizzy's are bright and on you as Antha, mug now on the coffee table, eyes closed, snuggles into your side. "Merry Christmas, Wy," Lizzy tells you softly and Antha croaks out the same greeting without opening her eyes and merely rubs her face onto your arm as if a cat rubbing up against its human.

"Lizzy," You start softly. "do you think Baby Jesus came to save my mom and dad too?" You look into her eyes, knowing you can ask her anything, tell her anything and she'll still love you. "Do you think Baby Jesus knew my mom and dad would hate me and he'd have to save them because they'd have so much hate in their hearts there's no room for love?"

"I think God knew it would be easy to let hate and anger in so he sent Baby Jesus to show us how to love." Lizzy replies thoughtfully. "It's so easy to be sad. So easy to fall into anger and hate. And it's so scary to love because everything's always changing and people are always changing, and people sometimes don't or can't stay… There's grief and there's loss. And then there's getting lost, and looking, _searching_ and not knowing if you'll ever find it." She's quiet for a while, lost in her own thoughts, and you both watch the steadily falling snow from outside.

"But it's okay to love them, even when they've disappointed you, even when they've hurt you." She continues softly. "You can't help who you love, you can't help how you feel. But we choose what to do about how we feel, Wy."

You nod. "I think I was meant for Mommy and Momma." You say softly. Lizzy's smile in response is blinding, and it spurs you to continue. "Sometimes when I pray I thank God and Baby Jesus I'm the way I am. Because if they didn't love me for me, then they don't really love me. Sometimes when I pray I thank God and Baby Jesus that they hurt me so bad I was almost gone… 'cause then I found Mommy and Momma… and you and Antha and Katie and Tatia." Tears pool in Lizzy's eyes and they quickly run down her cheeks. You stop, you don't want Lizzy to cry.

You are unsurprised when Antha stirs next to you and grips your arm tightly, a fierce fire in her eyes. "I think you were meant for mommy and momma, and me and Lizzy and Tatia and Katie, too. I think we are _all_ meant for each other." She says firmly, "But no one is allowed to hurt you. No one, especially not them. No one is supposed to make you feel you're wrong, no one is supposed to punish you for being who you are. We thank God you're alive. We thank God you're here with us. We thank God he brought us together, that we found each other. We thank God every day, every night, every _moment_ we are together, but we _never_ thank God for their hate, for their ignorance. We _don't_ thank God they hurt you."

"We thank God for your strength." Lizzy adds softly, reaching for your hand. "We thank God for your heart. And we thank God for your life."

"And snow and presents and Christmas?" Tatia calls from the doorway, almost tripping over her own feet in her haste to get inside the room. You see Lizzy hastily wipe at her eyes out of the corner of your eye so the little ones don't see, as Katie sleepily crawls into her lap, an elephant plushie clutched tightly in her arms. Tatiana runs to the glass doors and barely manages to stick her head out through the gap. She lifts her face to the sky, tongue sticking out trying to catch snowflakes. Energetic as always, she jumps in place in the next instant and twirls around, arms out, and continues, "And we're thankful for me, and Katie, and Lizzy and Antha and Mommy and Momma and Grandmom and Grandpa and Pop. Oh and Grandmomma in heaven."

"Is it thanksgiving again?" Katie asks confused, thumb in her mouth, curled up against Lizzy's front.

Antha chuckles softly beside you and Tatia plops herself into your lap, lying down so her arms are stretched out onto Antha's lap. Tatia answers with an exaggerated sigh. "No, silly, Kat. It's Christmas morning!"

"So it's presents time?" Katie asks.

"Presents!" Tatia bolts upright once again and makes a bee-line for your parents' bed. She scampers up on the bed, and squishes herself between your mommy and your momma.

"Ho, ho, ho!" She booms as loudly as she can in her best Santa voice, "Merry Christmas!"

You hear momma groan and you smile. You stand, take Katie from Lizzy, and throw her onto the bed as she giggles loudly before you launch yourself onto the bed as well. "Ho, ho, ho!" You echo, "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" Tatia yells again, now sitting on top of your momma, squishing her face as Katie snuggles into your mommy. You see your mommy smile, rubbing her nose against Katie's cheek.

_Now that's not fair_, you think, and make sure Tatia notices how peaceful your mommy and little sister look knowing full well the little hellion won't stand for it. And indeed, she launches herself at them and your mommy's _ommph_ fills the room as you snuggle into your momma.

"My good boy," your momma says, patting your cheek with her eyes still closed.

The door opens and your grandmom walks in, a steaming cup in her hands. "Good morning, babies" she calls cheerfully as she drops kisses on Lizzy's and Antha's heads, who you see are now snuggled against each other on the couch under a slate gray throw.

"Merry Christmas!" Grandpa and Pop-Pop call from outside the bedroom, probably preparing their own cups of coffee.

Your momma finally opens her eyes just as your mommy sits up and tackles a hysterically laughing Tatiana. "Merry Christmas, my little monsters." She tells the twins.

Your Grandpa and Pop-Pop walk in with a massive present and they scamper to get away from your mommy, eyes wide and alight with awe and excitement. You get up to greet your Grandmom a merry Christmas as your mommy jumps on your momma and rains kisses on her face.

Your mommy's and your momma's laughter, the excited squeals of your baby sisters and the soft chattering of your older sisters wash over you as your Grandmom wraps you in a warm and tight embrace. As you settle into her arms to watch Tatiana and Katarina tear into the first of their many presents for the day, you thank God that the family He has brought you to is this one. You thank Him that this mommy and this momma love you and keep the nightmares at bay, that this Grandmom holds you like she never intends to let you go, that this Grandpa and Pop-Pop always exude light and hope, and these sisters love so fully, so unreservedly. You thank God that they are yours, and you thank Him even more that you are theirs.

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A/N: I'm fortunate enough to not have to be around so much hate and bigotry on a daily basis, but there are days where I am slapped in the face by such ignorance, and utterly astounded that there are still people in this world, in this day and age, that are blind to the beauty of love regardless of sexual orientation. To those that are constantly hurt, those that are made to feel less or wrong,you are never alone. All over the world there are those that know better, that accept and understand that you are not less, you are not wrong, your _love _is not wrong.


	3. I'll be home for Christmas

A/N: I wish I could have had at least a week to keep rereading and tweaking this snapshot, but there's so much more I want to accomplish for the season and not enough time. And you guys telling me what you think always make me ridiculously restless and gives me this insane need to respond.

This has so far been easiest to write but the hardest to feel and let go of. I don't know if I've done it justice, the underpinnings have been going 'round my head for months so I really hope it's turned out fine.

Jehfret, gllover22, and Charlie, Hi! Glad you guys are in this little yuletide journey with me!

P.S. NY was spectacular, as always!

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**Three: I'll be home for Christmas**

-Shelby-

"Mom," Beth calls softly, and your eyes flutter open to see her and Samantha peering at you.

You smile at them and pat your lap as you motion for Samantha to sit. Neither move and Beth continues to look worriedly at you and you sigh. "I'm fine, honey." You assure her. "Just resting my eyes."

She continues to eye you warily, unconvinced, but Samantha eagerly sits on your lap and cuddles close. She's a little small for a nine year-old but what she lacks for in height, she makes up for in absolutely everything else.

"We finished the cookies, Grandmomma," she tells you, wrapping your arms around her. "I made you a Christmas angel and a star and a menorah. Lizzy-Bethy made you an angel too and a dreidel."

"Thank you, my darling." You tell her with a kiss to her temple. You reach for Beth's hand and you sigh again at the worried expression still on her face. She's much too young for this. Much too innocent, too good, too pure.

You're not unselfish- how can you be with such amazing girls? You don't just think about Beth, you think about Rachel— the times you'd disappointed and hurt her, the times you'd lost her, the times you and she have found your ways back to each other. More than Beth, it's her you feel like you're letting down the most. You trust her, you trust Quinn, you trust the both of them to be anything and everything Beth needs as she grows up, but to leave Rachel... To _have_ to leave her... It's as though you're walking away from her yet again, and it is that thought that breaks your heart the most.

Thoughts of Beth and the strong, kind, amazing capable woman she will grow to be fills you with joy and gratitude. You are grateful that you have been a part of her life, that you have had her to love and that she has loved you back. You are grateful that your relationship with Quinn has developed into what it has, that somehow she has managed to teach you how to try to be the mother both your girls deserve. You are grateful to her for bringing you into both their lives, into your granddaughter's life. You are grateful for each glimpse of Rachel over the years- you are grateful for her anger on Rachel's behalf, her implicit trust in your daughter and by extension, you. Quinn has given you Beth, but she's also given you back Rachel.

You know Rachel is hurting, and a small part of you, a very very small part finds comfort in that because perhaps it means you've done enough for the past hurts you've caused that she's found it in her heart to forgive and love you. You hope and pray that the past years show her the depths of _your_ love for her, that you've never, not for a single second, not loved her despite what your past actions may have implied. You were selfish and afraid. For all your outer bluster and feigned confidence, Rachel is the one that's always brought you to your knees. Your daughter, your child- the sacrifice you hadn't known would break you. But she's here now, and _you _are here now. And though every other part of your body is breaking and shutting down, your heart's the strongest it's ever been.

"Where are your momma and mommy, honey?" you ask Beth.

She glances up the stairs before looking back at you to reply. "Just upstairs. Do you need anything? Are you hungry? Are you cold?"

You caress her cheek and note for the millionth time every curve and line of her face. Your daughter. Your little angel come to save you from drowning in your mistakes. "No, honey. I'm fine."

"I'm cold, Lizzy-Bethy. " Samantha says. Beth begins to take her hoodie off to give to her little sister but the little one shakes her head. "Can I have my red sweater with the snowflakes, please? I think it's in our room. "

Beth nods and makes to leave but turns to you before she heads up the stairs, tucking in the edges of your blanket and pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. When she has disappeared from sight Samantha turns to you carefully, her mouth set in a grim line, her eyes hard.

"Are you going to heaven soon, Grandmomma?" She asks you softly and you see tears pool in her eyes at her own question and she strives not to lose her composure. She brushes them away hastily and her face hardens as she tries to keep any more from escaping. She is strong, this little one. And you know that she gets it from Rachel, that she gets it from Quinn. Their heart, their strength- both her and Beth. Because you, you're not strong, you're not brave.

And true to form your heart stops at the thought of death for a moment. You'd be crazy not to be afraid, to not acknowledge the paralyzing fear at the unavoidable path life's led you to. "Soon, my darling," you answer, a lump in your throat. "Soon, but not yet."

You pray every night, every moment you are reminded of what is going to happen. You pray that your sins be forgiven, your failings, your mistakes and your anger. You pray for mercy and love, that God takes you into His arms despite your many sins and that he lets you watch and love your family from above.

"I know it hurts sometimes... But will you stay as long as you can, Grandmomma?" she continues. "Will you stay as long as you can for Lizzy-Bethy and Momma? And me and mommy?"

"I'll stay as long as I can, my darling. I'll stay as long as I can for you, for your mommy, for your momma and for Lizzy-Beth."

"Lizzy-Bethy is sad." she whispers hurriedly, eyes drifting to the staircase quickly, as she rushes to get the words out presumably before her sister returns. "She's sad and I'm scared she'll never be happy again if you're gone."

You swallow and will yourself to calm. Your daughter, your granddaughter, your angels. How you're hurting them and can't do anything to stop it. You've tried as much of it as possible- first, second, third, even sixth and seventh opinions; all the recommended drugs and treatments, even the ones that made you violently ill, the ones that made you barely able to get up, the ones that barely let you wake. You tried even the hokey ones- the natural and the herbal, the crystals and the charms. You had tried as much of it as you could possibly stand, and each time you prayed for just a little more time- just a little more to watch Beth and Samantha flourish and grow , a little more to watch Rachel and Quinn build and love, a little more just to prepare and make amends, a little more just to love them.

"Do you think we need to pray harder, Grandmomma? Do you think God can't hear us because there are so many people praying?" She's earnest, so very determined and earnest. "I won't ask for toys ever again. I won't ask for _anything_ ever again, just as long as we're all together, you, me, Lizzy-Bethy, Mommy and Momma, and Grandmom, Pop-pop and Grandpa. And the Tias and the Uncles. I won't ask for anything _ever_ again, _never ever_, not even a baby brother or sister." She promises as a lone tear escapes and falls down her cheek.

You brush it away with your thumb, caressing her cheek as you look into her eyes, the very same eyes your daughter has. "No, darling. God hears us, always. God hears what's inside our hearts before we even ask. God gives us what we need to grow in strength and in love. Even when I'm gone, I'm going to love all of you. This love we have doesn't just disappear, it's too big, too strong. But I have to go, darling. I know you don't understand, but it's just how it is."

Her bottom lip trembles at your words and more of her tears escape, but as with before, she wipes them away. She tries to speak again but more tears fall, and you take her face into your hands, wiping at the tears yourself. "It's alright, darling. It's all alright. I'm here right now, and I'll be here for a while yet. I'll hold on as long as I can." You kiss her forehead, your lips lingering as you will your own tears away. "And you and me, we can ask God for that baby brother and baby sister together. And even when I'm gone, darling, you tell them Grandmomma loved them. Tell them Grandmomma prayed for them, that even before they came to be, I loved them and that I'm going to love and watch over them as I will you and Lizzy-Beth and Mommy and Momma."

"When will they come, Grandmomma?" She whispers as her tears abate.

"I'll ask God to send them home to you as soon as possible, darling." You smile at her.

"Home to us." She replies your face now framed in her hands as she looks intently at you.

"Yes, my darling. Home to all of you."

"Home to all of us _with you_." She insists and your heart breaks just a little more. "Momma says you're never gonna really be gone 'cause you'll always be in our hearts. We'll miss you and we'll love you even when you're gone. You'll be in our minds and you'll be in our hearts. You'll be wherever we take our love for you. So you'll always be with us because we'll always love you. Home is where our love is, home is where you'll be with all of us."

You nod, too choked up to speak and simply kiss her cheek. And you give thanks that you are still here to hear this, still here to feel it, still here to hold her and love her even though you don't really know for how much longer.

The doorbell rings, and you and Samantha turn towards the direction of the front door though you're unable to actually see it. You hear footfalls on the staircase and Rachel and Quinn are walking down with Beth. You see that Rachel's eyes are red and swollen but she's smiling softly as is Beth. Gone is the worry Beth had gone up the stairs with, gone is the trepidation and fear you had read on her face just moments ago. She's smiling brightly at you as she helps Samantha put her Christmas sweater on. Quinn is heading to the closet and Rachel is leaning down, she's taking your hand.

"You okay, Mom?" Rachel asks, wiping a tear you hadn't been aware had fallen.

You smile at her. It isn't always easy to do, every other moment is a reminder of wasted time, past hurts, and time running out; but every other moment is also a reminder of forgiveness, of love, of time made up for, of good memories made. And so you smile, memorizing everything you can about her eyes.

"I'm perfect, sweetheart." You tell her truthfully, because in this moment you are. In this moment she calls you _Mom_, in this moment your granddaughter is curled up against you, in this moment your daughter has a genuine smile on her lips, in this moment your daughter-in-law is draping a coat over your shoulders, squeezing it lightly in silent comfort and affection, and you know with them together it really will be alright.

Rachel is silent for a second before she nods and moves to help you up. "We've got carolers," she tells you. "Beth's given the church choir a list of your favorite carols and they've been practicing them all week."

"They've come to sing for you, Mom." Beth says, taking your other arm and guiding you towards the door.

And as you stand beside them, watching, listening, letting the holiday cheer further fill your already full heart, you look up at the stars shining down on you. Someday, you hope, God in his mercy will let you look down upon your girls, that all you've told your granddaughter is true, that you'll love them from above. You pray fervently that God lets you into heaven and that each season finds your girls happy, safe and well.

* * *

For my Mama. Thank you for holding on for as long as you could. Merry Christmas in heaven.


	4. Ma'oz Tzur

**Four: Ma'oz Tzur**

-Hiram-

"Steady now, sweetheart." You say, holding both of Katarina's hands in yours as you slowly maneuver the both of you over the ice.

At eight, the little ones just starting to learn is a little late and once you'd realized neither your daughter nor daughter-in-law had ever taken them skating, you were on the phone with Judy, who was at the mall grabbing provisions for s'mores, which the children have also never had, to remedy the situation. The big apple may be a wonderland of art and culture but it certainly seems as though your grandchildren could do with a lot more of the outdoor rural activities that you yourself grew up with. Judy had gone all out and gotten skates for everyone and now you are all out at a nearby pond that's frozen over. Judy's got her new digital camera out, boasting of an expandable high capacity memory card and she records positively everything in sight beginning with the older girls simultaneously laughing and teaching their constantly falling over younger brother, who also has never gone skating.

"Pop-pop!" Tatia's squeal pierces the air as she and your husband end up in a heap on the ice. You hazard a look as you gently walk Katie around on the left end of the pond, her hands firmly in yours, your pace slow and careful.

"Don't let me fall, Grandpa." Katie says, claiming your full attention as she determinedly but very very carefully tests shuffling forward on her skates gripping tightly on to your hands.

Katarina is serious, cautious, and determined, whereas Tatiana is impulsive, prone to dramatics but no less determined. Though the differences in the two girls' personalities are stark, their sweet and kind natures are indeed undeniable and you're grateful for the determination and devotion your daughter-in-law has, her strength and her bravery, her all-encompassing heart responsible not only for these twins, not only for your grandson, but for both your older granddaughters as well.

Rachel had been a miracle. She was your very own miracle personified, all the good, amazing spectacular things that the world contained, all wrapped up in your little girl. Your little spitfire—your beautiful and brave little girl grew into a passionate and determined young lady and you knew that tried as you had to give her all the love and support from your home, you and your husband couldn't shield her from the anger and ignorance of the world. Growing up hadn't been easy for her but she had persevered. Life had hurtled countless challenges her way and she has come out all the stronger for it.

And now to have this family, to have all these children around you, you didn't know you were allowed so many miracles in one lifetime. You had wished, and you had hoped, and you had prayed. But you hadn't known the magnitude of love the years had had in store for you. And to live this now, surrounded by the glorious life and energy of the youth, their hope, curiosity and passion - your life has never been fuller, your prayers never so clearly and wholly answered in than in these smiles, laughter, embrace and warmth of your family.

Katarina picks it up rather quickly, her face all sorts of adorable, scrunched up in seriousness and concentration, and in only a little more than an hour, she's not only hazarding skating alone without the help of you keeping her up and leading her, but quite successfully doing it as well. This little one is brave, you note, determined, capable and brave. Tatiana too is mostly skating on her own but her wavering concentration, and impulsivity keep her movements slightly uncoordinated and shaky and she mostly ends up falling over in laughter. You keep an eye on her as for the hundredth time she picks herself off the ice and a beaming smile still in place, tries for long strides to get her to her target quicker.

Your grandson is no longer on the ice, he's plopped down on the snow, Judy's camera in his hands, taking a video of his older sisters as they take turns twisting and twirling every which way on the ice. Samantha and Lizzy-Beth had both as young children taken a handful of skating lessons over the years when Shelby had still been alive. It had been a winter activity quite well enjoyed and treasured by the three. And only having remembered that now do you realize that perhaps that might have had something to do with the younger ones not having learned earlier. In worry, you look closely at the older girls, checking to make sure they're as alright as they see, and though not all your worry dissipates completely, you note with contentment that you can't see sadness, regret or bitterness in the girls' faces. They are happy, content and _light_, dancing circles around each other, jumping and twirling in the air.

"Katie, Tatia," Judy calls, taking out a big thermos and mugs out of a picnic basket, "come over for cocoa."

Tatia lets out a yelp and falls over once again after a long stride towards her grandmother, laughing yet again as picks herself up. Your husband makes his way over to her to help, and with her hands in his and him setting the pace, she's forced to slow down and you note that her movements smoothen out, and calmer, she actually makes it across the ice with relative grace.

Your eyes seek out Katie and she's still practicing gliding over the ice. "Sweetheart," You call, "Grandmom's brought cocoa out. Time to take a break."

She looks up at you, her expression torn. You know she wants to continue practicing but you also know that Judy's cocoa is everyone's absolute favorite. "Fifteen minutes, sweetheart." You bargain, "Let's get warmed up, the ice will keep."

She smiles briefly before her brow furrows in concentration again as she pushes off towards you. Her braking falters just the tiniest bit and you hold out a hand to steady her. She flashes you another smile and though you take her hand in yours, you let her set the pace for skating back towards her siblings.

When you arrive, Antha and Lizzy-Beth are pouring mugs of cocoa for everyone to share as Judy checks Tatiana over, brushing ice off of her as she gives her grandmother a play-by-play of the moves she's tried, seemingly as excited about steadily gliding over the ice as she is about falling over. Judy checks Katie over next as you take a seat on the bench next to your husband who wraps an arm over your shoulder and hands your boots to you. Antha presses a mug to your hands when you're done and Tatiana squeals in delight as she watches Wyatt make snow angels on the ground. She face plants on the snow as she forgets to replace her boots with her skates as she tries to make her way towards him. Judy is quick to get to her side and after only a light reprimand, her skates are off and abandoned to the side for snow angels.

You take a sip of Judy's hot cocoa and you hum in satisfaction as it settles warmly in your stomach as the sight of your grandchildren roughhousing in the snow warms your soul.

There's another squeal, this time off to the right, and you find Rachel lifted up in Quinn's arms. Your daughter is giggling and struggling to get away from her wife but your daughter-in-law keeps her arms around her, rolling them on the snow bank. You see Quinn cup Rachel's face, placing a soft lingering kiss on her lips, as her hands sneakily gather the soft ice around them. Satisfied with the amount she has, she unceremoniously dumps them on Rachel who again squeals in shock. Quinn laughs, loudly, warmly, rolling Rachel on top of her. She wipes the snow off her wife's hair, smiling softly, adoringly, at her. She says something you can't make out but you see your daughter's soft gaze before she lowers her lips to meet Quinn's, her hair curtaining to hide their faces.

You look away, you don't want to intrude, but in the next instant you hear her call out. "Kids!"

You see the children turn towards her at her call, waiting. "Take Mommy down!" She yells, pushing off of the snow covered ground and jumping to gather a snowball in her hands.

Quinn looks confused for a second but it quickly turns to fear as the children's resounding cheers fill the air. The twins get to them first, the most excited at the prospect of a snowball fight, but the older kids are at their heels, no less determined to perhaps do as their momma has instructed. In moments, snowballs are flying at Quinn though you note that most of them miss. There's manic laughter coming from Tatiana and soon Katarina is hurling snowballs at her instead of Quinn.

"Momma said get _Mommy_, Katie, not _me_!" she thunders out as her fourth snowball in a row misses her twin. The child has atrocious aim and you make a mental note to help her practice when you get back from your winter cruise.

"Pop-pop, help!" she yelps, face red, eyes watering in frustration.

Your husband chuckles next to you as he nudges your shoulder. "You take the little hellion, I'll take the other little hellion?" He asks, eyes twinkling with laughter.

You shake your head at him, both are indeed little hellions. You stand, shoving him lightly. "You're on, Berry." You tell him as you start towards the little girls.

When you get there, you see that the tides have turned. Samantha, Quinn, and Wyatt have taken Tatiana's side and the girls are hurtling snowballs at Rachel, Katie and Lizzy as Wyatt dodges snowballs with Tatia on his shoulders. Wyatt shrieks out one battle cry after another, which Tatia echoes, and you see Quinn constantly falter in her attacks at the adorable sight and sound.

"Fiiire!" Katie yells as you reach them, swishing a branch in the air as she does so and as one, Lizzy-Beth, Rachel and Judy hurl their snowballs across.

"Grandpa!" Katie calls at the sight of you, excitedly clapping her hands as her mother, sister and grandmother hurry to make more snowballs, "Momma and Grandmom can make the snowballs and you and Lizzy throw them! Momma's keeps missing!"

Wyatt keeps running interference with Tatia still on his shoulders laughing maniacally and you swing your arm around trying to channel your inner pitcher as Katie once again yells "Fire!"

Your ball hits Wyatt squarely on the chest and Katie lets out a triumphant cheer as your only grandson groans dramatically, exaggeratedly falling to his knees and clutching at his chest over his heart. "Oh pain, oh ice cold mistress of pain, steer clear of my heart and be gone!" He throws himself forward, and close to the ground, Tatia jumps off, clutching at her heart as well.

"Be gone, mistress!" She yells, mirroring her brother's actions. "Be gone!"

"Get Tatia!" Katie yells, jumping in pure and unadulterated excitement. "Get Tatia! Fire! Fire! Fire!"

And so it went, the great snowball war of the decade. It had started with waffles and hot cocoa, dreidel and ice skating and ended with pink cheeks, frozen fingers, thunderous laughter and boisterous singing- each and every activity, each and every moment filled with warmth and happiness and love. Hours later, in the warmth of your home, your grandson snuggled against you and your husband, your little hellions asleep in their mothers' arms, your big girls chattering animatedly with their grandmother- you look at your family with satisfaction and contentment. This is all you've ever wanted for your daughter, all you've ever wanted for your grandchildren, all you've ever wanted for yourself. The comfort and joy of a loving family, a life well loved, a life well lived.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to the reviewers for your kind words, and thank you for being okay with the installments taking longer than I initially planned. This is a few days late, and it really does seem like I won't be able to get them out as quickly as I want to.

Again, thank you very much for joining me on this journey. Happy holidays everyone!


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